CHAPTER 14 - THE PHOENIX RISES
CHAPTER 14 - THE PHOENIX RISES
It's been two years since Aunt Amelia took me in, and I’ve finally started to feel like I belong somewhere. I’m 7 years old now, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since those dark days. My body has changed a lot in that time. I’ve grown taller, standing at 4'6", and my once frail frame has filled out thanks to regular meals and constant exercise. Aunt Amelia made sure I had enough food, and I made sure to keep up with my workouts—after all, you never know when a well-trained body will come in handy.
My hair, which used to be a tangled mess, now falls smoothly to my shoulder blades. Aunt Amelia often brushes it for me in the evenings, and I’ve caught both her and Susan grumbling about how unfair it is that my hair turned out so silky. They laugh about it, but I can tell they’re happy to see me looking healthier. It’s strange to think how much can change in such a short time.
But it hasn’t all been easy. Three major things have happened in the past two years that have shaped our lives, and none of them were simple.
The first was the trial. Six months after I moved into the Bones household, the case against those responsible for my captivity and torture was finally brought to court. Aunt Amelia led the charge, her sharp mind and relentless determination gathering enough evidence to make sure they would never see the light of day again. I remember her pacing the living room one evening, papers scattered everywhere, her voice cold as steel as she said, “With what we have, half the dementors in Azkaban will be lining up to give them the Kiss.”
But things didn’t go as planned.
"Can you believe it?" she fumed, slamming a fist onto the table the day we got the news. "That old fool, Dumbledore, had the nerve to remove me from the trial!"
I looked up from the book I was reading, feeling the air crackle with her anger. "Why would he do that?" I asked, even though I had a pretty good idea.
“He claimed I was ‘too involved,’” she spat the words like they were poison, “that I was too close to the victims to ensure a ‘fair’ trial.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself, but it was no use. “Fair! After everything those monsters did… And he has the audacity to talk about fairness!”
I clenched my fists, feeling anger boil in my chest. "So, what happens now?" I asked quietly, though I feared the answer.
She sighed, the fire in her eyes dimming just a bit. “We’ll still go to trial, but without me on the bench, I can’t guarantee the outcome. I’ll do everything I can from the sidelines, but...”
A few days later, the verdict came down. Ignacius Avery, one of the worst of them, was sentenced to 20 years in Azkaban. Twenty years. A pitiful sentence for someone who had destroyed so many lives. I remember Aunt Amelia’s face when she heard the news—pale with rage, her hands trembling as she poured herself a glass of firewhisky.
“It’s his age,” she muttered bitterly, staring into the glass. “They say he’s too old to survive a full sentence, so they gave him a lighter one. Dumbledore and his damned ‘second chances.’”
I sat beside her, silent but seething inside. Avery was old, but that didn’t excuse what he’d done. And Dumbledore… He was supposed to be one of the greatest wizards of our time, but all I could see was a man blinded by his own ideals.
As the night wore on, Aunt Amelia drank more than I’d ever seen her. I stayed up with her, watching as she tried to drown her anger in alcohol, but it didn’t work. It couldn’t.
“He better rot in that place,” I whispered fiercely, my small voice filled with a determination that surprised even me. “If he ever escapes, if he ever joins… him… I’ll make Azkaban look like a vacation.”
Aunt Amelia looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw something soften in her eyes. She put down her glass and pulled me into a hug, holding on tightly like she was afraid I might slip away. “You’ve been through so much, and yet you still fight,” she whispered into my hair. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
I nodded against her, feeling a resolve settle deep in my bones. I would be ready. For Avery, for Dumbledore, for anything that came our way. We would get through this—together.
The second major event happened not long after I turned six. It was my birthday, and Aunt Amelia, Susan, and even Tilly made sure it was a day I wouldn’t forget. The dining area was decorated like something out of a dream—floating letters spelled out "Happy Birthday," while flying firecrackers danced around the room, leaving trails of light in their wake. A delicious-looking cake sat in the center of the table, waiting to be sliced and devoured. It wasn’t a grand party, just the four of us, but it was more than enough. The warmth of their smiles and the care they put into the celebration made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time—joy.
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I couldn’t help but grin like a fool as I looked around the room. Susan was busy trying to catch one of the firecrackers, laughing every time it slipped through her fingers. Aunt Amelia watched her with an amused smile, while Tilly, our house-elf, flitted about, making sure everything was perfect. When we finally convinced Tilly to sit down and have a slice of cake with us, she burst into tears, crying as if we’d just granted her the greatest honor in the world.
“Tilly, please,” Aunt Amelia said gently, handing her a napkin. “It’s just cake. We’re happy to have you share it with us.”
Tilly sniffled, wiping her eyes with the napkin. “Tilly is so happy, Mistress Amelia! Tilly never had such a kind family before!”
I reached over and patted her small hand. “You’re part of our family, Tilly. We couldn’t do this without you.”
Her tears doubled, but this time they were tears of pure joy.
When it came time for presents, I could hardly contain my excitement. Aunt Amelia handed me a neatly wrapped package, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. I tore it open to find a formal book on Occlumency, the title embossed in gold on the dark cover.
“I thought this might help you as you practice,” she said, her tone serious but kind. “It’s important to learn the established techniques, even if you’re already gifted.”
“Thank you, Aunt Amelia,” I said, my fingers tracing the lettering on the book. This was more than just a gift; it was a sign that she believed in my abilities and wanted to help me grow.
Susan grinned as she handed over her gift, a small bag filled with wizard candies. “These are from me,” she said, “but Aunt Amelia paid for them since I don’t have any Galleons yet.”
I chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Thanks, Susan. I’ll make sure to share them with you.”
Next, Tilly approached with a shy smile, holding out a set of finely made robes. “Tilly made these for you, Master Ares,” she said, her voice trembling with pride. “For indoor wear, to keep you comfortable.”
I held the robes up, marveling at the intricate stitching and the softness of the fabric. “These are amazing, Tilly. Thank you so much.”
But the biggest surprise came from SAL. By now, she had grown into her full size, and let me tell you, it was both funny and a little terrifying when Aunt Amelia realized that my companion was a Phoenix. Her reactions ranged from awe to mild panic, especially when SAL decided to perch on the back of her chair during breakfast.
As the celebrations were winding down, an owl swooped into the room, dropping a small package on the table. I recognized the seal instantly—Dumbledore. The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately. Aunt Amelia’s face lost all emotion, her eyes hardening as she stared at the package.
“It’s for you,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “But you don’t have to open it if you don’t want to.”
I hesitated, glancing between her and the package. I could feel the weight of her gaze, the unspoken warning in her eyes. But curiosity got the better of me. When she finally gave me a small nod, I carefully unwrapped the package.
Inside was a small, intricately designed pendant with a note attached. I picked up the note and read it aloud:
"Dear Mister Bones,
I know you may not have much in the way of positive feelings towards me due to the results of the Avery trial, but I've heard from a colleague of mine that you possess a very particular ability. I discussed this with an old friend and we found what I believe to be the perfect little SALution until you gain control of it.
Wishing you a Happy Birthday.
Albus Dumbledore"
I stared at the note, a frown tugging at the corners of my mouth. ‘So this is the Albus "I give second chances to psychopaths" Dumbledore that exists in this world, huh? One that is still smart but has a heart. I’ll have to be careful around him… I’m not planning on becoming another one of his weapons,’ I thought, feeling a mix of suspicion and wariness.
Aunt Amelia reached over and took the pendant, examining it closely. “It’s a charm,” she said after a moment, her voice guarded. “Something to help you control your abilities. But be cautious, Ares. Dumbledore doesn’t do anything without a reason.”
I nodded, taking the pendant back and holding it in my palm. It was beautiful, but it felt heavy—both in weight and in meaning. “I’ll be careful,” I promised, slipping it into my pocket.
Aunt Amelia’s eyes softened slightly, and she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Good. Now, how about another slice of cake? I think we’ve earned it.”
And just like that, the tension in the room eased, and we returned to our celebration. But even as I laughed and enjoyed the rest of the evening, the pendant in my pocket felt like a silent reminder—of the dangers that still lay ahead, and of the need to stay vigilant.
As the night wound down, I couldn’t help but eye the small wooden box that had also come with Dumbledore’s package. It was simple but elegant, my initials engraved in golden cursive on the lid. Curious, I lifted the lid and found a pair of glasses nestled inside. The metallic frame gleamed in the light, intricate engravings running along its length, almost like runes, though I couldn’t quite make them out.
Aunt Amelia leaned over to inspect them. “We’ll have someone at the Ministry look these over before you try them on,” she said, her tone firm. “We can’t be too careful, Ares. It could be a fake sender or, worse, a cursed item.”
I nodded, trusting her judgment. As much as I was intrigued by the glasses, I knew better than to rush into something that could be dangerous.
A week later, Aunt Amelia returned with the glasses in hand, her expression serious yet tinged with a hint of excitement.
“Put them on and look me in the eyes afterward,” she ordered, handing them to me.
I hesitated for a moment, then slipped the glasses on. The moment I looked up and met her gaze, I noticed something different. There was no flicker of discomfort in her eyes, no telltale sign of the mental tugging that usually accompanied even the slightest use of my abilities.
“They really do work!” Aunt Amelia exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. “I didn’t feel even the hint of a tug on my defenses! You can finally go outside without worrying, Ares!”
My heart leapt at her words. For the first time in years, I felt a surge of excitement, the kind that made my skin tingle and my mind race with possibilities. I could finally step out into the world, beyond the protective walls of our home, without the fear of my powers unintentionally harming someone or revealing too much.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I can’t wait to see what’s out there.”
Aunt Amelia smiled, her expression softening as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Just remember to be careful, alright? The world outside is beautiful, but it’s also full of dangers.”
I nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. The glasses were more than just a gift—they were a key to a new chapter of my life, one where I could explore, learn, and grow. But with that freedom came responsibility, and I wasn’t about to take that lightly.
The third significant event was perhaps the most personal. It happened during one of our quiet afternoons, just Susan and me in the library. She had been flipping through a picture book while I studied one of Aunt Amelia’s texts on Occlumency. We’d fallen into a comfortable routine over the past year, with me often sharing snacks with her between my readings. I didn’t think much of it until she looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes and said, “Big brother, can you help me with this word?”
I froze, the words she’d spoken echoing in my mind. Big brother. It was such a simple phrase, one that most people might not even give a second thought to, but for me, it meant everything. I’d always wanted to be someone’s family, to be accepted and loved, and hearing Susan call me her brother was like a dream come true.
“Of course, Susan,” I replied, my voice a little shaky as I took the book from her. “What word are you stuck on?”
She pointed to a particularly long and tricky word, and I helped her sound it out, but all the while, my heart swelled with pride. From that day on, Susan started calling me “brother” more often, and each time she did, it made all the effort and time I’d spent with her feel so worthwhile. It was a small thing, but to me, it was one of the biggest rewards I could ask for.
Now, back to me being seven.